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Bad things happen around me. I’ve known that since I was 10 years old. But I thought I could escape it, I found a place, so alive that I thought I could hide in between the people and the many lives around me. I loved walking around town, not speaking to anyone, just watching. I got noticed, people started talking to me and I made friends, not close but close enough to not be alone. I really thought I could try again, get another go at life… I was wrong.

But my luck caught up with me, the ground shook, first almost imperceptibly then more and more and I saw my city slowly fall apart before me… all the people I had met, those I had known and those I had gotten used to passing by. The colours and the lights came tumbling down in a shower of ephemeral beauty. The pillars were crumbling and I knew that no matter how hard I tried I would not be harmed. That’s just how it works. I get to see cities fall and people get crushed but I always come out unscathed. I saw the homeless guy I sometimes had sat with for words of wisdom, a pillar about to fall on him, and there were others. I closed my eyes as the city I loved fell to pieces around me and tried to block it out, imagine it still standing, trying to block out the screams of dying people and crashing towers. All I could feel were the tears streaming down my face, it was the only harm done, but it was enough. When I opened them again the rubble sat there accusingly, it was my fault, it always was.
So I closed my eyes again and tried to imagine what it had been again, so full of life. And I cried.

Falling, it was easy, she’d done it before, in her dreams, she’d had many dreams about falling into space, nothingness, forgetfulness, because there, there was no one to hate her, no one to lock her out, no one at all. Just nothing, and the thought was appealing: she wouldn’t have to hide anymore, she wouldn’t have to become mute so that nothing she said could be used against her, she wouldn’t have to try to lock the world out. Standing on the edge it all sounded right, no one wanted her and she would fall into oblivion, the world didn’t need her.

Standing on the edge she was determined, but she was also afraid, because she knew that she wasn’t falling to nothing: she was falling onto a hard road where, if she was lucky, she would get crushed on impact. If she wasn’t lucky… she would either get hit by a car or strike a lamppost on the way down, not very nice thoughts but ones she couldn’t get out of her mind. A small part of her still wanted to live, nagging at the back of her mind.
She stood staring down for a while until she realised that she couldn’t do it; her instinct to live was too strong. But by now there was turning back… it was too late. She had her back against the wall, her pain pushing forward, her instinct pushing back and she was stuck in the middle of this tug of war neither able to jump nor go back.
So she sat there and cried alone in the dark. If you see her, pull her away, let her see that not all is lost, show her that there is so much more to life. Please. For her. And for all the people who died thinking they weren’t worth it. Because they were, they were every bit worth the precious life they owned and they should never have thrown it away. No one ever should. If you find her, please tell her this: “you are not alone”, because in these times, that may be all she wants to hear. Thank you.

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